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Sentinel Poetry Magazine January 2003
Victor Ehikhamenor
Sojourner In A Waste Land
In the elder's council Sitting in the heart of the village I discussed in silence With brown chalks and totem symbols In quietness I prostrated On ashes Gone to the unknown Are my known elders
…I moved on
To the farm Immediately I set foot on the farm road Embrace of cobwebs blurred my visions Like a ton of fog Hungry hoes hung high in farm huts holding on To dry nonchalant soil remnants; a reminder Of joblessness. Thirsty machete watch idle fists Rot away in idleness Cornfields yield weeds Harvest baskets form baby caskets But where are the farmers?
…I moved on
To the market place Growling bowels made makossa music Hunger displayed wares in every roll of store Jolting to life every slumbering ghost & goat Emptiness hawked mock laughter in taunting demeanor Eunuch soldiers and tattered policemen moved and removed Limbs and tongues from taxi-drivers Politicians funneled lies down coughing megaphones Widows hugged the remains of blasted orphans.
…I moved on
To the local government HQ Swamped by tall grasses unattended Pot-bellied councilors doled out illiterate counsels Empty files and gaping cabinets swallowed me Managers and messengers slumbered In agony infested mood waiting for last year's salary Chairman and executive members shared The daily booty in muffled laughter Inside locked crevices they searched for more kickback While abandoned projects garnered eternal demurrage.
…I moved on
To the university Rusty gates and dusty classrooms Told tales of abandoned stone-cold-dreams Libraries festooned, broken tomorrow Ivory tower became darkened tunnel for funerals Roaches and rodents ran experiments In cold Bunsen burners and hollow ended tubes Students trudged lonely streets like mendicants Professors went constipated with ideas Like pregnant mountains without volcanoes.
…I moved on
Like a loose strand of hair Without head I moved on To nowhere… I moved on.
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